“I’ve cut down,” he mumbled sheepishly. Being shamed by a child was humbling indeed, and I might have felt sympathetic toward him if the topic was a different one. Maybe Gigi could eventually get through to him about his smoking, because I certainly hadn’t been able to.
Tyler’s voice crackled through my walkie. “Come in, Boss.”
“I’m here, Ty. What’s up?”
“We’ve got a faucet in cabin three that won’t shut off. I’m here now, but I believe I’m going to have to shut off the water supply to figure out the issue. Over.”
Indeed, I could hear running water in the background. Wonderful. Guests who wanted a shower in the next hour or so would not be too happy, but there was nothing else to be done about it. “Copy. Do what you have to do.”
“What’s that saying?” Walt asked. “Heavy is the head that wears the toilet plunger?”
“Real funny. It’s more of a dunce cap at this point.” I was falling deep into self-pity.
“You’re doing your best,” he said. “Just keep on keeping on. What else can you do?”
In addition to the faucet that kept on flowing, the next few hours presented me with a tearful Kyra, who had been chewed out by Chef Damon, and a bird who flew into the dining room and refused to exit. As I finally cornered the wayward chickadee and shooed him through the back door, I asked myself what else could go wrong that day. Turns out, you should never ask yourself that question.
* * *
Instead of dinnerin the dining room that evening, we had what I called poolside grill grub so Chef Damon and Serenity could get a well-deserved night off. Tyler and I manned the grills and Kyra did the serving. It was nothing fancy—hamburgers, veggie burgers, corn on the cob, and a sideboard full of salads prepared by Serenity earlier in the day. Families seemed to appreciate a break from the formality of the dining room, and I did, too.
Gigi sat down to eat at a table with Lauren and, to my surprise, Walt came and joined them. He had a policy of not dining with guests, preferring to eat his meals casually with other staff members, but he was always a favorite with the people who came to stay at Silver Sage. Walt fit the western stereotype with his bushy mustache and worn Stetson, not to mention his skill with horses. People always enjoyed his sly humor and nuggets of cowboy wisdom. Why had he broken tradition by sharing a meal with a guest? As I tried to figure that out, my attention repeatedly strayed over to their table where there was lively chatter and laughter. It didn’t take a genius to see that Walt had been charmed by Lauren, too, and he was thoroughly enjoying her company.
After supper, Gigi and our guests went to the Round Room to listen to a local bluegrass duo play acoustic guitar music. Hiring musicians for such a small crowd was expensive and probably foolish on my part, but it was important to me that everyone had a good time and left positive reviews. We couldn’t build a business if people gave negative accounts of us on social media and travel websites. Besides, we’d always had evening entertainment in the Round Room for guests, and I wanted to keep the Silver Sage traditions alive. After making sure the performers had everything they needed, I headed back to my cabin to take a shower and rid myself of the smell of grilled meat.
When I was alone, the warm water soothing my tired muscles, I finally let myself feel the full weight of the day. It was time to acknowledge that this ranch I loved so dearly was falling apart piece by piece. The pool, the cabins and the tennis courts were all in need of major renovations or replacement. The plumbing needed updates too, and the first thing our groundskeeper had done when I took over the ranch was hand me a long list of improvements he’d been trying to get my father to make for years. We didn’t have the money or the staff to stay afloat much longer, and I wasn’t sure I could do a damn thing about that.
Without realizing it, I’d worked through dinner without eating, and now my stomach was painfully empty. I cured that problem by making myself a sandwich and downing a glass of milk, all accomplished while standing at the kitchen counter. The last thing I wanted to do was socialize, but I needed to check on my guests, so I slid my boots back on and headed out. Music emanated from the Round Room, windows lit with a golden glow, and when I got within twenty feet of the door, I stopped to listen. Such nights took me back to earlier times at Silver Sage, when guests filled every cabin and cottage, and evenings overflowed with laughter and camaraderie. I wanted so badly to restore our ranch to the way it once was, both for my parents’ sake and my daughter’s. Whether we failed or succeeded was all on my shoulders.
“Matthew?” a soft voice called out in the darkness.
I turned to see Lauren approaching. She was wearing those red boots she purchased in town, along with a pair of blue jeans and a white cotton blouse. The sight of her lifted my spirits a little.
“Hey, there. Are you headed to hear the music?” I asked.
“Yes, I’m going that way. I needed to use your office because I had to make a call and couldn’t get reception anywhere else. I hope that was okay?”
My gut twisted. “Of course it’s okay. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. Reception has always been an issue here.” We used to encourage guests to disengage from the outside world and enjoy their time reconnecting with nature at Silver Sage, but in an era where people were addicted to their devices and had work-from-anywhere jobs, that was becoming a harder sell.
“It’s fine,” she said. “I was actually hoping to run into you. I saw someone racing out of here in your Suburban when I was in the office, and I was wondering if everything was okay?”
“My Suburban?” I looked over at where I’d parked it, and sure enough, the space was empty. “Did you see who was driving?”
“A man with short, curly blonde hair,” she said. “That’s all I could see. Why? Did you not know about it?”
“Shit. That was probably Chef Damon.”
“Oh.” Understanding dawned on her face. “Is he the person who isn’t supposed to drink alcohol?”
“Yeah.” I rubbed the tight muscles on the back of my neck. “I’ve got to catch up to him. How long ago did he leave?”
“About ten or fifteen minutes.”
My mind started formulating a plan to get Chef back to the ranch before he wrecked himself or my vehicle. God forbid he hurt anyone before I could reach him.
“I need to ask Kyra if Gigi can sleep over in her cabin tonight because I don’t know how long this is going to take me.”
“I can watch her if you’d like?”
